“That’s reality.” His thumb brushed slow lines over my thigh. “I’m telling you right now: I am willing to start that war. I don’t care if your father hates it. I don’t care if sovereign wants to make an example of me. I love you. I’m not letting go.”
The quiet conviction did more than any shouted promise. He sounded less like a man making declarations and more like one reporting future casualties.
“So I’m trapped. Daddy’s, forever.” I said it half joking, trying to ease the tension between us.
“You can fly to any capital you want. I will fly in after you and bring you home. You could accept a proposal in front of a hundred witnesses and I promise you, that heir will not live long enough to see the formal announcement stream.”
A reluctant huff caught in my chest. “You’re insane.”
He tucked my hair behind my ear. His fingers tracing my temple.
“I’m in love.”
Damn. That hit me right in the chest. I took a sharp breath in before spreading my hand on his heart. “I love you too. So much it scares me.”
He exhaled near my ear. “Say it in my tongue.”
I hesitated, then gave in. “Tal ven arik.”
He made a sound I’d never heard from him before, half broken, half awed. Like the words had knocked his lungs sideways.
“You’re lucky I love you.” I tried to lighten it. “You’re a lot.”
“I know baby,” He kissed inside my palm, my wrist, then my knuckles.
My fingers tapped his shoulder. “Bath.”
“Already planning to strip me, angel?”
“I want time with you. Water. Quiet. No sand.” And no witnesses if I changed my mind and climbed him.
“That baby idea is a great fucking idea,” he muttered into my hair.
His heart beat against my palm, hard and steady. I curled closer, the last of the fight draining out on a sigh.
He stood, lifting me with him like it took no effort at all. My legs wrapped around his waist on instinct. His hands slid under my thighs, grip firm, anchoring me against him as he carried us toward the hallway.
Our issues weren’t fixed. But I was in his arms, and for tonight, that was enough to start.
38
Madeline
We stepped out of the bath. My legs still trembled from how long he’d held me, palms firm on my hips, mouth tracing the top of my shoulder whenever I exhaled too fast.
The towel slid over my arms. He dried me like I might bruise if he rushed.
He kissed my shoulder, the same spot he’d kissed when he pulled me into the water earlier.
“I miss you,” he murmured. “Miss being where I belong. Inside my girl. My home.”
Heat tightened low in my stomach.
“You say things like that,” I breathed, “and then wonder why we have no boundaries inside walls.”
His hand paused at my waist. “We don’t need boundaries in private.”
“We probably do,”
